Mistaken.

So, I’m “full of shit, and always have been”
according to choice words spoken by Oblivion,
I am busied with “feeling sorry for myself”
“throwing pity parties”, and inviting no one else
Damn, I guess this distant man is onto me
he caught me playing him and gaining NOTHING
in a flash, my character is bashed with bitter words
reaction to dissatisfaction best made by the immature
and, it’s by now so obvious how he’s dangling a string
and never stood a chance of accepting my complexities
sadly, it’s not too unusual in my own experience
my need to heal myself becomes a Monkey Wrench
and next thing I know, I’m every name but a nice one
because he couldn’t get me to crawl under his thumb
I’m obliged, to notarize my name to the realm of reality
I already have enough to sift through out of the debris
it’s just another case of the flip of the ol’ light switch
I’m just trying to get by, and I’m suddenly “full of shit”
it’s fine, if it soothes your mind to warp things conveniently
we can agree on one sure thing: that you have mistaken me.

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Mangled Truth. (Weekly Challenge July 5)

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Weekly Challenge:
July 5 Alliteration (Assonance)
Write a poem in which all the words in each line begin with the same letter.

Ageless anxiety, angered and antagonised
by bullying bastards, bent backwards by
sensibility. Sly, self serving shallow servants slipping.
Lies, long lost. Left lacking. Lingering leads.
Truth’s traces tease. Tirelessly toxic together – they
wonder why whispering worriedly while
preaching paradoxical perfection! Pish Posh! Pass!

Dissentient. (Weekly Challenge July 5)

Weekly Challenge:
July 5 Alliteration (Assonance)
Write a poem in which all the words in each line begin with the same letter.

I initiated its immeasurable impositions, independently…
shiny-sheened smokescreens settling, slowly spreading…
for faded fractal figures, fastidiously fermented figments…
tediously tethered to the tyrant’s terrain…
drowning dread deeply, drained down dissentient…
laughing loudly, layered like Life loves Lady Liberty…
again and again, another atrocity’s appearance assaults…
bygone be bygone, beautiful blonde burden burn brightly.

Don’t Fall

Mocking Bird Down

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Look at me, in a way
that makes me feel
like you have ripped
out my secrets and stored
the bloody
pieces in your
pockets, proudly
and with the intention
of making them yours too.
Touch me, in a way that
makes me lean in,
with out thinking.
That makes me inhale
you, like a dry mouthed
junkie. In withdrawal
after one hit. One drag.
One line. One time.
Kiss me, like your lips
belong to me. A sticky
dragging of skin,
and tongues that
tell a story of want.
Bury your
hands in my hair and
arch my neck back,
baring it,
for your hot breathed
inspection.
Smile at me, like you
understand every dark
corner of my soul, like
you want to go there with me.
Hold my hand,
and then let it go.
Show me.
You don’t need me.
You see me,
and you want me.
But…

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Envy Not

Mocking Bird Down

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Do not be so quick to envy
my sharp tongue and my
fearless hands.
Destroying the smile
of another with intent,
is my own crippling band;
that chokes me. Bruises me.
Not because of guilt, and not because of
shame. But because it leaves me
bitter and abandoned in the
hollows of my veins.
Destruction is a opiate, for
the anger that resides.
The gnarly twisted cruelty
that hides behind green eyes.
I am no advocate for the weak.
Nor am I inspired by the meek,
But I am;
by definition –
the kiss on your demon’s cheek.

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The Art, in Breaking Hearts

Mocking Bird Down

Corazone 2

I bled, bright red
today.
I gripped the wound,
and the warmth
of the blood that pulsed
past my fingers and
ran across my breasts
onto the floor,
was a vivid
reminder.
I never was in control.
I was merely caught
off guard, and propelled
into a motion, not unlike
a speeding train.
Or falling plane.
No emergency brakes, when
it is actually an emergency.
No warning signs, seat belts.
helmets or knee pads.
No fucking parachutes.
Just the stomach churning slam,
and the knowledge that when you
open your eyes again,
nothing will be the same.
Not ever again.

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